Gardening Duty
by freakwithacamera
Summary: Murphy's no stranger to detention, but this time Kane's trying to make sure the message sticks, so he gives Murphy gardening duty. Bellamy's the groundskeeper with a love of roses and a hatred for bratty, rich kids, and from the second Murphy sees him all he can think about is how nice it would be for Bellamy to shove him against a wall. But that wasn't going to happen, right?


_Gardening duty._ That was something that existed. A real punishment that they were allowed to give him because apparently normal detention wasn't enough to keep him from causing trouble again and again. Honestly, it was the most ridiculous punishment he could think of. Oh, no, he was going to have to _plant things_ and _touch dirt_ and oh, the _horror_.

If they wanted to force him into a proper young man capable of taking on his father's business, whatever it was, his mother and the board of directors still wouldn't tell him, exactly, then they should try harder. Maybe the iron maiden would work. Probably not, but at least it would be better than being lectured by Kane for not behaving correctly. He wasn't a dog to be trained, and he didn't want to be here. Sure, he'd met Mbege and the rest of his friends here, but the only reason they'd bonded was out of mutual distaste for the school and all it stood for. Ark Academy, making respectable young men out of reckless youth since 1923. Reckless, because delinquent was too strong of a word for their parents to use. Delinquent wasn't what their babies were, _no_ , they were just misguided and in need of better parenting. Which is why they were sent here, to the middle of nowhere, where they stayed for months at a time. So they could be parented. Made complete sense.

Murphy rolled his eyes and leaned against the side of the gardening shed as he waited for Mr. Blake, the gardener, who Murphy didn't think he had seen around before, but he couldn't be certain whether he had or not. He rarely paid attention to anyone who wasn't yelling at him or threatening to send him to jail for something that really wasn't even a crime and he wasn't sure why Kane had gotten his panties in a twist over it. It wasn't like he'd done it on purpose, and there was no way he'd ever actually be arrested and Kane knew it.

He didn't even deserve this punishment, honestly. All he'd done was accidentally knock over a few chemicals and ruin all of Kane's tests so they would have to take them some other day. Okay, maybe wasn't so accidentally, considering Kane taught math and the science lab was at the other end of the hall, but he still didn't deserve this for it. And it really wasn't his fault he had almost completely destroyed the desk. He wasn't a chemist, he couldn't tell how strong an acid would be. They shouldn't even have those chemicals lying around if they didn't want accidents to happen.

Alright, he supposed being locked in a cabinet for safety reasons couldn't really be considered 'laying around.' Maybe he did deserve it, just a little bit, but he still didn't see the point of lecturing him for almost an hour over something so small. It was a mistake, anyone could have done it. Kane really needed to find some chill, because, technically, he couldn't prove it _wasn't_ an accident.

Murphy let out a sigh and looked at his phone, checking the time and hoping Mbege had texted him or something. It was fifteen 'til four and, no, he hadn't. He shoved his phone back into his pocket with a huff, deciding that if Mr. Blake wasn't here by four, he as going to leave and just deal with Kane in the morning. He had more important things to do than hang around campus all day. He could be back in his dorm room with Mbege getting his ass kicked at Halo or out with Craig and Richards doing literally anything other than stand here dying in the heat, and honestly, who's fucking idea was it to make them wear blazers when it was this fucking hot outside? It was ridiculous.

"Can I help you?" The question stopped Murphy's internal whining immediately, pulling him back to reality.

He looked up, searching for the person who'd spoken and, upon finding him, swallowed hard, awestruck and caught off guard because he had never thought Mr. Blake -or he was assuming that was who he was- would be that hot. He'd been expecting so old guy, maybe, like Filch from the Harry Potter books or something. That was what he'd been expecting, but man before him was the exact opposite, and literal definition of his type. He was couldn't be too much older than Murphy himself, maybe his early twenties, and he was slightly taller than him, by a only a couple of inches, with a mess of dark curls that framed his face, a few of them falling into his eyes as he gave Murphy a suspicious glare. Tall, tan, and with just enough muscle that he'd have no problem picking Murphy up and-

"Hello? Is there a reason you're out here or are you just lurking?" Mr. Blake asked again, coming closer and frowning at Murphy, his features stern and commanding. "Because if you're out here to cause trouble then you can leave now."

Murphy shook his head, coming back to his senses. He was _not_ thinking about a member of the school's staff like _that._ That was going to get him into even more trouble than the time he'd let a skunk into the teacher's lounge and tried to blame it on Sterling. It hadn't worked and he'd gotten caught, but the skunk hadn't, it was probably still roaming the grounds somewhere with a taste for stale coffee and half-assed essays. But that was not the point. The point was that, sure, Mr. Blake was hot and the glare he was giving Murphy did things to him, but he was here for an entirely different reason and he'd be completely screwed if anyone found out he'd even entertained the thought of being pinned between Mr. Blake and the shed, and not in the way he'd like to be. "I'm not lurking, believe me, I've got better things to do. Unfortunately, I can't do them until I do whatever you want me to do."

The raised eyebrow he received told him he could have worded that better, but Mr. Blake didn't say anything about it, simply sighing and nodding, "That makes you John Murphy, right?"

"The one and only."

"Bet Marcus is grateful for that," He muttered. "I'm Bellamy Blake. Groundskeeper and apparently babysitter," He introduced himself, not at all pleased with having to deal with bratty teenagers on top of his actual job.

"Murphy," He winced when he realized that Bellamy already knew that. Of course he would say something embarrassing right off the bat. Murphy couldn't do smooth if his life depended on it, and Bellamy being as hot as he was did not help matters at all.

"I know," Bellamy nodded. "You're the asshole who spilled acid on Marcus' desk. I'm surprised you didn't get arrested for destruction of school property."

"That was me, yes," Murphy nodded, smirking proudly. It had taken him a whole class period's worth of planning to figure out how to do it, too. He might not be the best at taking tests, but he was a pro at getting out of them. "And, technically, it wasn't illegal because it was an accident."

Bellamy gave him a look that was half exasperation, half mild amusement and pointed towards the back of the shed where a few crates of spiky sticks wrapped in plastic sat, "Right, well, _technically,_ we've got flowers to plant, so grab a crate and come on."

Murphy watched as he bent down to grab one of the crates, his muscles straining slightly as he did so. When he'd stood back up, crate in his arms, he gave Murphy a pointed look, hurrying him on.

He scowled at the crates, they looked nothing like roses, not even close, but did as he was told and soon fell into step beside Bellamy. At least he wasn't stuck with Kane erasing answers from textbooks or being lectured by Jaha or whatever other horrid torture the teachers could dream up for him. This might be a bit harder to do, but at least Bellamy was nice to look at. He could have gotten stuck with Cage again. Not that Cage wasn't nice looking, he supposed, if you were into the whole 'creepy, evil, economics teacher who probably keeps severed heads in his basement' thing. Murphy could safely say he wasn't. Bellamy didn't seem like the type to do that, though, so maybe this punishment wouldn't be so bad after all.

Bellamy lead him to the administration office, the crate of roses weighed heavy on his arms and he was relieved to finally be able to set them down. Who knew that a bunch of spiky twigs could weigh so much? They looked terrible, literally nothing more than sticks covered in thorns. Their roots were wrapped in plastic covers and Murphy wondered how they were supposed to be considered flowers when they looked more like weeds. Dangerous weeds, at that.

"Okay, we'll be planting them here," Bellamy gestured to the freshly tilled flower beds on either side of the administration building's door and the pile of gardening tools that lay next to them. "It shouldn't take more than an hour, hour and a half tops, if you know what you're doing. But Kane said I could keep you until six-thirty, as long as you're back in time for supper."

Murphy groaned, the idea of being kept out here for another two and a half hours was not one he enjoyed. As hot as Bellamy was, it wasn't nearly enough to compensate for two and a half hours of digging in the fucking dirt. Murphy wasn't an outdoors person, and he certainly wasn't a gardening person, he was more of a stay inside and avoid responsibilities while pestering Mbege person. He was really beginning to regret spilling acid on Kane's desk.

"It's not that bad," Bellamy assured him, beginning to take the plastic off the plants. "You dig a hole, grab a bush, put it in the ground, cover it up, move on. Simple."

"You know, I really don't think this was what my mother had in mind when she paid my tuition," Murphy grumbled, grabbing for a spade. Actually, it might have been, for all he knew. His mother had sent him here without warning, no discussion, no goodbye, just a 'the car's out front, your bags are all packed, I'll see you for summer break.' That had been the end of it, he hadn't seen or heard from her since, not even during winter break -which he, Mbege, and Richards had spent with Craig's family- but he couldn't say he didn't like it that way.

"And I suppose you purposely dousing a teacher's desk in acid was?" Bellamy asked with a raised eyebrow.

Murphy huffed, "No, but even that's better than digging around in the dirt like some kind of animal." He was not a damn prairie dog, for fuck's sake.

"Excuse me?" Bellamy asked, obviously offended. This was his _job_ and Murphy could keep his rich boy opinions to himself, thank you.

"That's not what I fucking meant and you know it." His intention hadn't been to offend Bellamy, and it wasn't his fault if the man took his words too personally. He hadn't said anything wrong. Everyone was just too damn sensitive, that was their problem, not his.

Bellamy just shook his head and went back too removing the plastic from the plants, deciding that it wasn't worth it to argue with Murphy. He'd dealt with these rich brats for a couple years now, there was no getting through to them. They floated on their parent's money and thought the world was made of fucking sunshine and that anyone who wasn't as rich as they were just wasn't trying hard enough. Bellamy hated babysitting them, no matter how pretty they were. Which was most definitely not a thought he was going to entertain. That was trouble and he couldn't afford that.

It took them half an hour, three arguments, and more sarcastic jabs that either of them could count before they finally stopped for a rest. Murphy flopped down on the ground, glaring at the sun for as long as he could stand to before closing his eyes, bright circles burnt into the back of his eye lids. It was too damn hot and whoever was in charge of the temperature should be fired immediately.

"Problem, pretty boy?" Bellamy snorted, dusting his hands off on his jeans. "You look like you're half dead. Need to see the nurse?"

"Oh, fuck off," Murphy huffed, ignoring the twist in his gut when Bellamy called him pretty. It was an insult, he knew that, but he couldn't bring himself to be offended by it, not when it technically meant Bellamy thought he was pretty. "It's too damn hot."

"Might help if you took off your jacket," Bellamy reasoned, sitting down next to him and handing him a bottle of water he'd pulled from on of the empty rose crates, cracking the cap of his own.

Murphy stared at him for a second, the world on it's side as he laid there, feeling like a complete fool. He nodded to himself, slowly sounding out the words as he sat up, "Right, jacket." He'd forgotten he'd even had the damn thing on. After getting so many uniform violations for not wearing it that it resulted in him having to spend a week's worth of detentions with Cage, he'd taken to wearing the thing constantly, not wanting a repeat of that nightmare.

Murphy pulled it off, tossing it to the side, rolling his eyes at Bellamy's frown, "I have to clean it, anyway." It would have to be washed with all the dirt on the sleeves, so he saw no point in being careful about it, and wrinkles were the least of his worries, because believe it or not, he _could_ use an iron. And most everything else necessary to take care of himself, a result of many of his nannies quitting and his mother not bothering to hire another one for weeks at a time, leaving him to fend for himself. It worked out, though. He'd never admit it to anyone, but he liked knowing he could take care of himself. Even if it was with something as simple as his own laundry.

Bellamy nodded and Murphy could tell he was still judging him. That was fine. He was very easy to judge, apparently. Though, for some reason, being judged by Bellamy didn't feel like being on trial like it did with everyone else in the school and his life, particularly his mother hand her friends. He was being judged, sure, he could tell that, but he wasn't being criticized. Despite all the sarcastic comments and smart remarks he'd made, Bellamy hadn't told him off, he'd fired them back, but he hadn't told Murphy he should ct civil, or proper, or like something he would never actually be no matter how many classes he took. Bellamy wasn't looking at him and seeing what needed fixing to make him proper, he looked at him like he was human, like he was allowed to be.

After a moment of rest, Bellamy sitting on the ground next to him, picking apart a few blades of grass and occasionally dropping the shredded remains onto Murphy just to watch him frown and blow them away, he sighed, "Alright, come on, let's get back to work. One more flower bed to go."

Murphy sighed and pushed himself up off the ground, shoving his sleeves up to his elbows and grabbing for his spade, making his way back to the flower beds. He had to hand it to Kane, if there was any punishment that could almost make him consider behaving properly, this was it. _Almost._

"What? A little bit of dirt too much for you, pretty boy?" Bellamy taunted, planting the first of the rose bushes in the second bed.

"Fuck off. I don't mind the dirt, I just don't like wasting my afternoon out here doing this bullshit just because Kane's a dick."

"You destroyed his desk. I think you're the dick in this case."

"Nobody fucking asked you, did they?" Murphy sneered, knowing Bellamy was right but not willing to admit it.

"Alright, calm down, Murphy," Bellamy hushed him. "Here, hand me that bush."

Murphy did as he was told, grabbing a spiky twig and handing it to Bellamy, ignoring the sting in his palm that reminded him that he should have paid more attention to the thorns and less attention to the way Bellamy said his name.

By the time they finished with the second flower bed, Murphy's arms and hands were covered in tiny nicks and angry, red scrapes. He frowned as he covered up the roots of the last rose bush before pulling his hands away and wiping them on his pants, declaring, "I fucking hate these demon plants." They were painful and they had torn his skin to shreds, and all for what? A few bushes that weren't even pretty?

Bellamy snorted and stood back, studying their work. It was good, not perfect, but it would do. "Looks like we're done here."

"Fucking finally," Murphy nearly cheered. He was done with those monstrous, shredder bushes. He needed a shower and maybe some antiseptic so he could be sure he wouldn't end up with some kind of alien infection from the thorns because he was absolutely certain those were not actually roses but impostors that had somehow convinced Bellamy they were the real thing and were actually plotting to take over the world and who the fuck knew what he could catch from something like that. Okay, maybe he was being a bit dramatic, but still, a band-aid wouldn't hurt.

"Yep, now we've just got to trim the ones by the headmaster's office," Bellamy informed him.

The smile dropped from Murphy's face, replaced with a look of betrayal and disbelief. There were _more_ of those things? He let out a groan that bordered on being a whine, "I fucking hate roses so much." They were horrible and painful and he didn't understand the hype they got. They were too damn sharp. "I fucking hate them."

"But they're beautiful," Bellamy told him, gathering up the tools and sticking them in one of the crates, leaving it by the building so he could come back and get it later. He took out the tools they were going to need but left the rest, walking off with Murphy trailing behind, protesting his defense of the roses.

"They're hellish!" He objected.

"The terms aren't mutually exclusive. I've come across a lot of pretty and hellish things," Bellamy said, glancing over at him.

Murphy got the feeling he was talking about him and the thought made his gut twist because there Bellamy went with the pretty thing again. Dammit, Murphy wasn't vain but being called pretty by someone like Bellamy did things to him. He took a deep breath, reminding himself of the trouble he'd get in if Bellamy knew what he was thinking. Bellamy would send him to the headmaster's office and then he'd be expelled. He was probably just reading too much into it, anyway, his wishful thinking twisting Bellamy's words and turning them into something they weren't. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that maybe it wasn't just wishful thinking.

They continued towards the office, Bellamy rolling his eyes as Murphy ranted about the roses and how horrible they were. "Just look at them! They're nothing but sticks with thorns!"

"They'll grow and bloom." Bellamy knew Murphy wasn't convinced so he motioned for Murphy to follow him towards the headmasters office, where the roses they'd be trimming were. He'd planted them the year before and they were in bloom.

He waited until they'd come to a stop in front of them, white and pink flowers covering the green bushes, a few stray stems sticking out that they'd have to cut back to maintain their appearance. "See? Eventually they grow up and put on flowers, all it takes is a bit of care."

Murphy looked conflicted, staring at them. He frowned, muttering, "They're still spiky. Do they ever lose the thorns?"

"No, but they're pretty enough that people can look past that. The flowers are very delicate but the thorns protect the plant from predators," Bellamy explained. "It's like they're purposely being assholes despite putting on incredibly beautiful flowers. I'm surprised you don't like them, actually, since you seem to have so much in common."

"Uh-huh," Murphy nodded. "Which part? Being beautiful or being an asshole?"

Bellamy shrugged, not admitting to either. He turned his attention back to the bushes, asking, "So, convinced yet?"

"Nope."

Bellamy sighed, reaching out to pick one of the roses off of the bush. He turned it in his hand, breaking off the thorns while Murphy watched, curious. When Bellamy was satisfied he held it out to Murphy, "Here, see?"

Murphy gingerly took the rose, giving it a skeptical glare, only willing to give it a chance because Bellamy wanted him to. Despite only knowing him for a brief time, most of it spent arguing, though their arguments had taken on a more playful turn as they'd drug on, Murphy found he liked the older man, enough to give the death flower a chance, anyway. Maybe it was how Bellamy hadn't backed down no matter what insulting comment Murphy had made, or the way he hadn't scolded him for making them, instead firing back snide remarks of his own. Snide remarks that had hit pretty close to home and would have stung if not for the smile Bellamy delivered them with. The smile that Murphy was sure he was going to fall in love with if it was directed at him one more time.

He studied the rose in his hand, trying to find what it was that made people, and Bellamy, mainly Bellamy, like them so much. Now that he saw it up close, he couldn't deny the flower was pretty, but it was painful, too, and Murphy had the scratches to prove that. Without the thorns, though, it was almost kind of nice. He felt it's petals, running his fingers over them gently, the silky softness making him smile. Okay, so they weren't that bad. Not when he wasn't being torn to shreds by them. He wasn't about to write poetry devoted to them, but he couldn't deny they had their merits.

Bellamy watched him, smiling to himself, not speaking until Murphy looked back up at him. He held out a pair of gardening shears, redirecting their focus back to the job at hand, as he, almost reluctantly, said, "We have to trim them back."

Murphy nodded, laying the rose to the side with his water bottle. He wasn't going to keep it, he was just... Yeah, he was going to keep it. He took the offered tool and frowned at it. He was fairly sure it was obvious he'd never used them in his life, but they didn't look all that complicated. Just like giant scissors but for plants. Easy enough.

A few attempts at hacking off the stray stems proved otherwise, leaving Murphy annoyed and the bushes massacred. All he'd managed to do was cut off a few twigs, but the larger stem he was trying to cut wasn't willing to work with him. He considered stopping and asking Bellamy for help but the man was concentrating on his own work and Murphy didn't need to be taught how to use giant scissors. He just needed the damn things to cut properly.

After a couple more doomed attempts, he was ready to just cut the entire bush down and burn it. The process was harder than it looked, since the shears kept slipping and finally, out of frustration, he grabbed the blades, trying to close it himself, but the handles fell downwards, the weight causing the blade to slip in Murphy's hand, slicing through the skin.

He pulled back with a pained yelp, the shears falling to the ground as he cradled his hand close to his chest, glaring at the offending tool. Go figure, they were shit at cutting through plants but they had no trouble cutting him open. "Fuck," He swore, opening his hand and staring down at the blood pooling in his palm. His fucking luck.

"You okay?" He heard Bellamy ask. A second later Bellamy was by his side, taking his hand in his own and examining the cut, "Doesn't look too bad," Bellamy assured him. "Here, put your fingers like this. It'll stop the bleeding," He took Murphy's other hand and showed him how to press on the veins in his wrist to stop the bleeding. Once Murphy had done so, Bellamy let go of his wrist and placed his hand on Murphy's shoulder, guiding him inside the headmaster's office, "Come on, they have a kit in here."

Murphy followed, still staring at his hand, cursing his recklessness and inability to think things through. That had been a shit decision, there was no way around it, and now they were going to end up having to take longer to finish this lousy detention.

Bellamy guided Murphy down the hall, pausing briefly to grab the first aid kit from beside the secretary's desk before continuing on towards the restrooms. He gently shoved Murphy into one of the restrooms, the bright lights an undesirable change from the relatively dim hallway. He turned on the facet and looked at Murphy who was frowning at his hand, "Here, wash it off."

Murphy sighed and stuck his hand under the faucet, not letting up the pressure on his wrist. He hissed at the sting of the water but resisted the urge to pull his hand back. "Fucking roses."

"Actually, it was the shears, and you were the one who thought grabbing the blades was a good idea," Bellamy told him as he opened the kit and pulled out the things he would need. "Maybe next time don't do that."

Murphy huffed out a quiet laugh, "Yeah. Thanks for the advice."

Bellamy smiled at him, turning the water off and handing Murphy a paper towel, "Has the bleeding stopped?"

Murphy dried his hand, careful not to irritate the wound excessively, before inspecting it. "Yeah, mostly. You think I can get Kane fired for this?" He asked, jokingly.

"You could get _me_ fired, I think, if you tried hard enough," Bellamy answered him, taking the cap off of a tube of antibiotic ointment.

"But not Kane."

"Nope."

"Sucks."

Bellamy snorted and took Murphy's hand, using a piece of gauze to gently apply the antibiotic. He began to wrap it up, his touches careful and light, almost like he was hesitant to actually touch Murphy despite not having a real reason to be. There was no reason he should hesitate unless he wanted to touch Murphy, unless he was trying to convince himself not to. Murphy had no intention of helping with that.

He was eighteen, a senior, and there was less than half a year left, anyway. He'd be out of school before he knew it and he was sure this would be easy to hide with as often as he got detention. Technically, it wasn't illegal, and most of Murphy's life revolved around technicalities, anyway.

Technically, he had a parent. Technically, he had never done anything illegal. Technically, he could be with Bellamy if he pleased. And if Bellamy wanted this, too, then Murphy certainly wasn't going to discourage him. He knew the rules about dating teachers, but he didn't think there were any specific rules against dating the groundskeeper, who, honestly, Murphy liked a thousand times more than any of the teachers.

And Murphy wouldn't deny it felt nice to have Bellamy touching him. He was a lot gentler than Murphy had expected, and he knew Bellamy was lingering, but he didn't mind in the slightest. Murphy watched, transfixed, as Bellamy touched his wrist and ran his finger tips over Murphy's hand, not really paying attention to what he was doing until he looked up, meeting Murphy's gaze.

Murphy swallowed hard as Bellamy's hand trailed up his arm until it rested on the back of his neck. Murphy allowed himself to be pulled close, tilting his head back so he could look at Bellamy. Of all the things he'd done, none of them could get him into nearly as much trouble as this but he hadn't wanted to do any of them more. He licked his lips and pulled Bellamy closer, inviting Bellamy to kiss him.

Bellamy's free hand found Murphy's waist and he leaned into him, hesitating for a second, asking, "Are you sure?"

There was no way he was going through with this if Murphy was anything but certain. They were not only breaking the rules, they were trampling all over them and any mistake on either part could result in consequences neither of them wanted to face. However this happened, however far it went, they both had to be sure that it was worth it. It could stop now before it ever began, but neither of them wanted it to.

"Yeah," Murphy breathed out. "Yeah, I'm sure."

No sooner than he'd said the words, Bellamy's lips were on his, slow at first but becoming rougher as Murphy kissed back. Bellamy's tongue traced over his lips and he willingly parted them, letting Bellamy deepen the kiss. He should have felt guilty, he thought he should have, at least, but he didn't, all he wanted was to feel Bellamy pressed against him. He kissed back, his eyes closed and his hands pulling Bellamy closer to him until Bellamy finally broke the kiss, panting slightly, looking at Murphy like he wasn't sure he was real, like he may just be a dream, but he never wanted to wake up from it.

Murphy smiled and kissed him again and Bellamy smiled into it, biting Murphy's lip gently and causing him to have to bite back a whine. Murphy felt Bellamy pick him up and sit him on one of the sinks as Bellamy trailed kisses down his neck. Murphy wrapped his legs around him and Bellamy's hands worked at the buttons of Murphy's shirt, pushing it out of the way once he got it open so he could touch him and Murphy moaned softly. "You know, I really don't think this is what Kane had in mind when he gave me detention," Murphy joked, his fingers buried in Bellamy's curls.

"Probably not. We could stop and go back to planting flowers, if you want," Bellamy offered, making a move to pull away from him.

"No," Murphy rejected the idea, pulling Bellamy back down. "This is good. I like this better," He said as he pulled Bellamy into another kiss. He'd done worse, he supposed, than this, and really, he could still do worse. He probably would do worse sometime during the next few months he'd be here. He'd made a lot of mistakes at this school, most of them purposeful, but Bellamy wasn't going to be one.

He'd never been one to follow the rules before and he saw no point in starting now, not when he'd found something worth breaking them for. Even if it was just a one time thing, he wasn't about to regret it, but he doubted it would be. He felt Bellamy kiss his throat, nipping at it teasingly and Murphy bared his neck for him, shivering when Bellamy's teeth scraped against his skin. This was definitely not going to be a one time thing.

._-*-_.

It took a few days, but eventually Murphy ended up in detention again, as per usual. He had to hide his smile when Abby sentenced him to a gardening duty for the rest of the week. Honestly, he'd only done it so he'd have a reason to be around Bellamy, one that wouldn't raise suspicion. There were two months left before he wouldn't have to worry about getting caught, but until then, as much as he enjoyed getting into trouble, he'd rather not be found out just this once.

Bellamy raised an eyebrow at him when he showed up outside the headmaster's office, but he didn't look surprised as he asked, "What did you do this time?"

Murphy shrugged, "Nothing." Nothing he was going to tell Bellamy about, anyway. He doubted telling Bellamy he'd gotten in trouble by purposely arguing with Dr. Griffin until she'd sent him to detention for the rest of the week just because he had wanted to see him would go over too well. "But I'm all yours 'til Friday."

"You know, if you didn't get into trouble, you wouldn't have to do this, right?" Bellamy asked, handing Murphy a spade. "Today, we're planting roses along the fence behind the lacrosse field. Probably shouldn't have gotten in trouble."

"Nah, I don't mind."

"No?" Bellamy asked, still not surprised. "And why's that?"

"I like the roses," Murphy answered, toying with the leaves of one of the bushes. "I wanted to work with the roses again."

Bellamy snorted, not buying it, "I thought you hated the roses."

"You changed my mind," Murphy told him, looking up at him and shrugging. "I've been convinced." He was here for Bellamy, yeah, but he really did like the roses a lot. After he'd gotten past the thorns and the belief that they were hellbent on killing him slowly, he could almost see Bellamy's point. The were beautiful, and he supposed there must be a reason so much poetry had been written about them. Something delicate that was beautiful to look at but painful to touch, it was the kind of sappy crap that he wished he could cringe at but secretly couldn't resist.

"Well, then," Bellamy chuckled and pulled one of the flowers off of the bush, holding it out to Murphy, "My life's mission is fulfilled."

Murphy laughed at his antics and rolled his eyes, not willing to admit how charmed he was by the action. Bellamy seemed like the best combination of romantic and realistic, and Murphy couldn't resist it, not that he wanted to. He took the rose and tried to tuck it behind his ear so he could free up his hands but it wouldn't stay. After his third failed attempt he felt a hand on his own and he looked up.

Bellamy took the flower from Murphy and brushed his hair back, tucking it behind his ear, using his hair to make the rose stay. As Bellamy pulled away, his hand brushed Murphy's cheek, lingering just a little longer than he should have. He smiled at Murphy and Murphy felt his heart stutter in his chest. "All mine 'til Friday, huh?"

"Saturday, too, if you want. Maybe Sunday. I haven't got anything planned for a while, actually," Murphy said as he took a step back towards the side of the office, grinning at Bellamy.

Bellamy followed, taking Murphy's hand in his own once they'd rounded the corner, Murphy pulling him against him. "Well, I'm sure we could find something to do," He teased, pressing a quick kiss to Murphy's lips. " _After_ we plant the roses."


End file.
